Got Your Number
by SuperMegaFoxyAwesomeHot
Summary: salfblog on Tumblr prompted: "I'm minding my own business, driving down the freeway, when I look over and see you sitting in the passenger seat of a tow truck cab in time to see you give me this woeful I'M-SO-MISERABLE look so now I'm writing down my number and holding it up to the window so you can talk to me instead of the truck driver" AU.


**This was a pain to format, I won't lie.**

* * *

Kurt was about four seconds from beating himself to death on the car window. Somehow he'd been stuck in the backseat after Santana called driver (which he would allow, since it _was _her car) and Rachel called shotgun (which was less acceptable, because he knew her motion sickness excuse was totally fabricated), meaning he either had no leg room or had to deal with the spare buckles digging into his thighs if he tried to stretch along the bench. Even more annoying than that, though, was the fact that Santana and Rachel had been arguing over who should have control of the radio for the past twenty-five miles, getting shriller and shriller as the miles passed with no resolution.

_Oh, great, and we're slowing down! _Kurt thought, noting brake lights all around them. _Just what I needed to improve my mood_.

Thankfully, the crush of traffic trying to merge into their lane made Santana have to stop arguing and focus on the road, a small mercy for Kurt. He looked out his window idly as they neared the source of the bottleneck: a tow truck along the right shoulder picking up an older sedan, orange lights flashing away.

He had to double-take when he saw the guy leaning against the cab of the truck.

The other man was almost _too_ handsome, with slicked-back hair and a colorful bow tie just barely visible from the collar of his coat. He also had the saddest eyes Kurt had ever seen, and that simply wasn't acceptable.

Kurt surreptitiously snuck a piece of paper and a Sharpie out of his bag, grateful he'd brought his homework on their weekend getaway. He quickly scrawled down his number and the words "Need a friend?" with a smiley face after the punctuation, holding it up to the window just as they passed the truck.

The guy's eyes widened happily and he nodded, yanking out his phone and typing away rapidly. He probably didn't need to be too concerned - Kurt's car was barely going fifteen miles an hour, so Kurt was sure he had plenty of time to copy down his number. Still, he eagerly pulled his phone out of his pocket and waited for it to buzz.

**Hey there, new friend.**

_Hello, mysterious stranger._

**This isn't some ploy to sell me into slavery, right? Just want to get that out of the way.**

_That's really your first thought?_

**A stranger just gave me his cell phone number from a passing car. There are a lot of ways this could go wrong, according to Lifetime.**

_You make a fair point, though I'd like to think I don't give off creepy human trafficker vibes. Would it help if you knew my name?_

**It wouldn't hurt.**

_I'm Kurt. Kurt Hummel. You can look me up online, I swear that's not some kind of cover._

**I believe you, Kurt Hummel. I'm Blaine, by the way. Blaine Anderson.**

_Ah, yes, we've been keeping an eye on - I mean, that's a nice name._

**Literal lol. Chuck the tow truck driver is looking at me like I'm crazy now.**

_Glad I could help. You looked like you could use the cheering up._

**My misery was that noticeable?**

_You looked like Sarah McLachlan music should be playing in the background as Suzanne Somers begged for donations on your behalf._

**I felt like that should be happening. My family reunion had already gone far worse than expected when something just went /clunk/ in my car on the way back to the city. But you probably don't want to talk about that.**

_Anything is better than listening to my friends argue over whether we should listen to the radio or Rachel's special road trip mixtape. They've been going at it practically since we left Montauk._

**Ouch, I'm sorry.**

_Your car went kaput mid-drive, and /you're/ sorry for /me/?_

**...Yes?**

_That's surprisingly compassionate, Blaine Anderson._

**I like to think I'm full of surprises, Kurt Hummel.**

_Really? Like what?_

**I prefer Idina Menzel in Frozen over her in Wicked?**

_...We can't speak anymore._

**Wait, are you being serious?**

_Yes. You have disrespected my show, and for that, you must pay._

**I like Wicked /too/, I'm just a sucker for Disney! Please don't leave me to rot in this tow truck!**

_I'm just kidding, Blaine. I'll admit that it's a little easier to belt Let It Go by yourself than it is to do Defying Gravity, if you want to do it justice._

**Oh thank goodness. Your turn!**

_Um. I actually really enjoy Mamma Mia?_

**What's so surprising about that? It's a fun show!**

_You're officially back in my good books, Anderson. Too many of my elitist friends think it's drivel._

**It /is/ drivel. But it's good drivel!**

The rest of the drive passed in a blur as Kurt and Blaine texted back and forth about favorite musicals, which eventually turned into favorite movies, which led to favorite TV shows and other pop cultural phenomena. More than once, Kurt had to keep himself from laughing too loudly at Blaine's responses - Santana and Rachel were _still _bickering in the front seat, and he didn't want their ire turned at him for inadvertently taking sides.

Sooner than Kurt expected, they were pulling into their parking garage, and Santana and Rachel were stalking off in opposite directions.

_So, uh, are you almost back to the city?_

**Just about, why?**

_Because I just got back to my place, and I /really/ need to shower and get my clothes unpacked. But after that, I have no plans tonight, and I was wondering…._

**Wondering?**

_If you might like to get a drink with me later? I just. Would really like to put a voice to your messages, and I'm sorry if that's weird. You don't have to say yes if you'd rather not, I promise!_

**Kurt. I'd love to get a drink with you. Say 9:30? There's this bar near me called Callbacks.**

_Oh my God, that's where I was going to suggest! Everyone at NYADA hangs out there._

**The NYU kids occasionally head there whenever the urge to do karaoke sets in. How have we never met before this?**

_I dunno, but we really need to change that. 9:30 tonight sounds perfect. I'll be the one humming Defying Gravity under his breath while he waits outside._

**Sounds like my first song tonight is definitely going to have to be Let It Go.**

_Why am I not surprised? I'll catch you later, I really need to get inside before my friends think /I've/ been kidnapped._

**Oh, how the tables have turned. I'll see you tonight, Kurt!**

Kurt smiled at his phone before shoving it in his pocket and heading out of the parking structure. A tingly, pleasant feeling had settled in when Blaine agreed to meet him in person, and he was already hoping that things would go well enough that they could go out again sometime soon.

He hadn't expected the instant connection that flared up between them in person, or the gentle kiss on his cheek Blaine gave him as they left, but he couldn't say he was disappointed. _Some _things had to be better in real life, after all.


End file.
